


Salt Skin

by scrapbullet



Series: Entelechy [6]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Crack, M/M, Mpreg, for my darling Megan, what is this i dont even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:58:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapbullet/pseuds/scrapbullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sean’s belly starts to swell, he blames it on over-eating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt Skin

When Sean’s belly starts to swell, he blames it on over-eating.

It’s a logical assumption; he smokes pot, he gets the munchies, it’s all good. Every now and then he indulges, sprawls out on his bed with his head hanging over the edge, breathing in the placid smoke and licking the powdered sugar from his lips, savouring it. Eating is a comfort thing, is a relaxation thing, and Sean is totally down with all that.

Hell, throw in a few more of the Prof’s snickerdoodles and he’s two steps away from an impromptu orgasm.

Heh. But that’s beside the point.

Sean is a man of few vices, but the ones he does have... _oh man._

And one of those vices?

Janos Quested.

“I hate you.”

Janos cocks a brow. He appears unflappable, as usual, still damp from the shower they’d shared before Sean had had to hastily vacate the contents of his stomach – for... how many weeks has it been? Seriously man, he’s lost count – and he rubs Sean’s back as he heaves, spitting up bile into the toilet bowl.

“Morning sickness is... normal. Beast said it would ease with time.”

Sean scowls. Normal his _ass_. “Yeah, for a _chick._ Do I look like a chi-”

Janos grimaces. Sean gags, bringing up nothing more than water, his stomach clenching spasmodically.

It hurts like a bitch, naturally.

“The Prof never had morning sickness this bad,” Sean mutters. The porcelain is blissfully cool beneath his cheek, and for a moment he closes his eyes – just a moment, that’s all he needs – and there’s silence but for the hush of bare feet on tiles as Janos kneels behind him, chest warm and solid against Sean’s back.

Janos brushes his lips over Sean’s neck, breathes. “Do you want me to fetch Beast?”

Sean snorts, eases, breathes in time with his lover. “Nah. Hank’s a cool cat, but he totally can’t handle the smell of puke.”


End file.
